The Alien Huntress Series

by Gena Showalter

“I’m afraid I cannot help you with that. She didn’t just bury your memories; she erased them. That was her ability. And I know what you’re thinking. Why didn’t she just erase the memory of you from the people here? There are too many people, and each day your powers would have grown. She would have had to remove their memories every day for the rest of your life. One day, she would have missed someone, and word of your presence would have leaked.”

  She splayed her arms. “If I have all abilities, shouldn’t I be able to erase memories? Shouldn’t I be able to stop time?”

  “One would think so.” He arched a brow. “You can’t?”

  She shook her head, wondering if she’d been sent away for nothing. Then she thought of the thorns and the fire. The place that hurt her to even brush with mental fingers. The place that sprung up with strong emotion. The place that held many other powers.

  No, she hadn’t been sent away for nothing.

  McKell rubbed two fingers over his stubbled jaw. “Your father was able to suppress the powers of others. Perhaps he suppressed some of your more destructive abilities to help you cope with life above.”

  Her father. A man she couldn’t even picture, but a man who had wanted only the best for her. A pang of longing had her swallowing back a whimper.

  “What other abilities are there?” Devyn asked.

  “Mind reading, for one, which just happens to be the king’s ability.”

  “Mind reading isn’t destructive,” she said. It was cool. Would have been cooler if she could actually do it. Maybe one day…

  “But then again,” McKell said with a shrug, “perhaps not all nefreti can do all things. We’ve never had the chance to study them because they are destroyed so early. Besides the first few, of course, who showed us their powers when they slayed the last king and disappeared. Well, and Fiona, but she lived on her own for many years before revealing herself. And now that we know of her, we cannot catch her.”

  Fiona. Bride wanted to meet her, talk to her. “What gives them away? The nefreti, I mean.”

  “The atomizing. Only a nefreti can do it. You and your mother were shopping one morning as I and my army passed. You were so excited to see me that you ran to me, and as you ran you broke apart, particles forming in your place. You swept the rest of the way to me before putting yourself back together in my arms. Too many people saw, or we would have simply hidden you down here and claimed you had died.”

  Oh, the horror her mother must have experienced that day. “Do you have a photograph of her?”

  “Somewhere. Maybe. Because of your taint, everything she owned was burned.”

  A sudden blast of hate bombarded her as she imagined her mother, her poor, sweet mother, who had just given up her only child to save her, watching all of her belongings being destroyed. “Your king—”

  “Thought he was protecting his family,” McKell interjected before she could threaten the bastard’s life. “He is not a bad man, Bride. Neither am I.”

  No, he wasn’t. Except for his treatment of food, that is. Well, and his bitch-slap to Devyn.

  “Darling,” Devyn said, his tone pure sugar, “he’s trying to court you. Isn’t that sweet. I, of course, know you’re too smart to soften.”

  Something clear, yet thicker than saliva, dripped from one of McKell’s fangs. Bride would have laid good money on poison.

  “Keep pushing me, Targon. See what happens.”

  “I will, thank you.”

  “Should I step out?” Bride said, throwing up her arms in exasperation. “Maybe let you two have some privacy for your pissing contest?”

  McKell lost the worst of his anger—she knew, because his fangs dried—and looked to Devyn. “Is she always like this?”

  “Yes.”

  The two nodded at each other in sympathy, the tension broken. What next? Bonding over beers and future conquests? Perfect. Just perfect. You brought this on yourself. She only hoped the king appreciated her finer qualities. Otherwise…No, she wouldn’t think about otherwise. Everything was going to work out.

  CHAPTER 22

  Is this love? Devyn wondered. He must love her, or he wouldn’t willingly be in the dark underground he’d vowed never to return to. A seemingly spacious world, but one he perceived as very cramped. Before and now. But Bride had wanted to come, and he’d been struck with a consuming need to give her what she desired. Even this.

  He’d also hoped that if he brought her here, letting her see the vampire way of life, she would realize she could have—and would want—a life with him on the surface. A life with no regrets. Not just days, weeks, or months, as he himself had always assumed. But…forever?

  Maybe. He knew he didn’t want to let her go. He knew he wouldn’t let her be with someone else. He knew no one else appealed to him. And he knew the biggest obstacle to getting what he wanted was McKell.

  Obstacles must be eliminated. Always. No matter the method used.

  The warrior’s solicitousness was throwing him for a loop—not that Devyn trusted the man. Even a little. But damn if he didn’t believe the male truly adored Bride. Still. That adoration was irritating. Bride belonged to Devyn. She filled a void inside him that he’d always denied; she made him see that there was a better way to be.

  And just when he’d realized it, someone had decided to try and take her away. Figures.

  He shouldn’t be surprised that McKell hadn’t yet struck at him, though. According to Dallas’s vision, that would happen at the pier. Unless…An unsettling thought took root. Because he knew what would happen at the pier, Devyn could very well have changed the future by deciding to come here, thereby forcing McKell to try and stab him in this new location. Shit. He hadn’t thought of that when he’d decided taking Bride underground was the best way to acquire the answers she sought while at the same time keeping them together—without a knife in his heart.

  McKell can’t kill you, he reminded himself. Yet. For the moment, Bride needed his blood. Devyn’s hands curled into fists. He didn’t like that there was a way to wean Bride from his vein.

  Wasn’t going to happen.

  When they returned home, Devyn planned to take the necessary steps to ensure Bride wanted to stay with him. They’d marry in truth, by Earth standards as well as Targon. He would build an office for her books. Or rather, pay someone to build it. He would purchase a water bed, and he would sleep in it with her.

  No longer would he allow his father’s voice to speak inside his head, stopping him from claiming his woman. As Bride had said, there was nothing shameful in what they did. The knowledge had never been more real to him. Bride wasn’t a whore, as his father would have called her. What she did to Devyn was beautiful; therefore what he did to her was the same. They could be together, be themselves, and still respect each other.

  How had he ever convinced himself otherwise?

  He didn’t want her to change from the smart-mouthed bloodsucker she was. And she clearly didn’t want him, flirtatious narcissus that he was, to change. After the auction, she’d almost attacked him. He smiled, remembering.

  “You look smug,” McKell said with a frown.

  Bride faced him. His beautiful Bride. “You do,” she said. “What wheels are spinning in your head, Bradley?”

  He blew her a kiss before turning to McKell. “What happens to Bride if I die before she’s weaned off my blood? Not that I’ll allow such a thing,” Devyn said, partly to remind the vampire of who Bride belonged to, and partly to learn the ways of his wife’s people. As he liked being the best at everything he did, this marriage would be no exception. He would care for her properly in all ways, even if he was dead.

  McKell ran his tongue over his fangs, his narrowed eyes on Devyn. “We have a potion for such matters. Once she drinks it, she will be unable to go near you, or the effects will mutate and she will die.”

  “Okay, next option,” Bride said.

  “There is also the possibility of bonding with someone else,” McKell replied. “It’s actually the pr
eferred method, as it holds no danger.”

  “Next,” Devyn said this time.

  McKell shrugged. “That’s it.”

  Then Devyn would live forever. He’d planned to anyway, but this conversation had just solidified his determination.

  “I have a question,” Bride said. She was still at his side, leaning into him, tensing every time she heard something unpleasant. “Can I turn other people into vampires with my blood? I mean, I haven’t yet, but it’s still a fear I have.”

  McKell regarded her strangely before comprehension dawned and he shook his head. “You’ve been reading surface books, I see. We have some of those ourselves because we like to be up-to-date on beliefs, in case we need to intervene or make them believe something else.”

  “Yes, I’ve been reading. It was the only way I knew to learn about myself. I had no vampire tutor, no one I could ask.”

  Now hold everything. “Not to call you a liar, love, but you are a liar. You’re forgetting someone who did, in fact, answer many of your questions.”

  “Yes, and I had to pay dearly for the information,” she said with a half-grin.

  “Are you referring to the little striptease I forced you to perform? Well, you’re welcome. I haven’t forgotten how much you enjoyed yourself.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Like I was the only one.”

  With a growl, McKell tossed a stone into the wall, and plumes of dust wafted around them. “Do you not care to hear what I have to say?”

  Did it make Devyn a bad person that he was enjoying the man’s anger?

  “Please continue,” Bride said with a wave of her hand.

  “It would take significant amounts of your blood for a significant amount of time to change a human or otherworlder into a vampire.” McKell’s ears perked, and his back straightened. “The city is awakening, and we must prepare. I have clothes for you, Bride. They are yours, no one else’s. The moment I decided to look for you, I purchased them for you. They’re in my personal quarters.”

  No way was she going into the man’s bedroom alone. “First, you should know that the humans you hired to find her, the slavers, hoped to rape and torture her before handing her over to you.”

  The patient stillness of a predator came over McKell. He breathed in and out, slowly, measured, as if to steady himself from a deep rage. “My apologies, Bride.” That rage crackled in his tone. “They will be dealt with, I assure you.”

  “They already have been,” Devyn said, smug again. “I take care of my own.”

  McKell flicked his tongue over a fang. “Appropriately?”

  He nodded, offended that his ability to protect his woman was in question. “While on the surface, you might have heard of a head being found. Without its body.”

  Now the corner of McKell’s lip twitched, his anger fading. “Appropriately, then. Now go dress, child.” He waved a hand toward the entrance on the far right. “I shall be waiting.”

  That commanding tone had to chafe at Bride’s independent nature, as did the “child,” and Devyn almost grinned. “There’s something else. You mentioned that the king’s ability is mind reading.”

  McKell nodded, his expression suddenly wary.

  “I suspected as much, last time I was here. But if he reads minds, how are we to prevent him from learning what we know of Bride?” As he spoke, he rubbed her back to assure her that no matter what, they would do what was needed to keep her safe.

  “The king can only read direct thoughts. While in his presence, in the palace really, you must be careful not to think of what you’ve learned here. I told you the truth only to warn and prepare you. If he even suspects, we are all doomed.” A heavy sigh. “He is not the same man you knew, Targon. Remember Fiona, the nefreti I mentioned? She abducted his brother, tortured him in the most vile of ways, and when she tired of him and returned the prince, he committed suicide. The king has not been the same since.”

  Devyn wouldn’t offer sympathy he didn’t feel. He had not liked the prince, had considered him loathsome, always grabbing at the female servants, even hitting them. The bastard had probably deserved everything the one called Fiona had done to him.

  “If the king is a mind reader, keeping me isn’t an option for you, McKell,” Bride piped up. “No way the two of us can keep our secrets from the king forever.”

  He shrugged, unconcerned. “As I explained, memories can be erased. Once we have been bonded, we will remain in my home until it’s done.”

  Bride gasped. “As if.”

  Devyn stiffened. No one would be screwing with his female’s mind. “You risked a lot, bringing her here.”

  “I have craved her return for over eighty years. Imprisonment and death would be small prices to pay for having her here.” There at the end, his voice had turned husky. “Go on now. Change.”

  Devyn’s lips pulled back in a scowl. He didn’t mind the vampire paying those prices, but he did mind Bride paying them.

  “But I have so many more questions,” Bride said with a pout.

  “And I will answer them as I show you the rest of the underground.”

  With those words, Devyn realized the warrior’s purpose, the reason he’d allowed Devyn into the underground without a fight and with utter confidence of success. McKell hoped to lure Bride into staying with the one thing Devyn could not give her: a city of vampires. The warrior hoped she would spurn Devyn’s affections, beg the king to allow her to stay, and then discard Devyn and his blood.

  A sense of urgency filled him, a need to show Bride what he could give her. He pushed to a stand, dragging her with him. “She will change, but I will go with her.”

  McKell scowled at him. “You will stay here with me, and I will answer any questions you have about the care one must take with vampire mates.”

  Bastard. Offering something so tempting. “My bad. Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear. Where she goes, I go.”

  Whatever the vampire saw in his expression caused him to nod stiffly.

  Devyn turned, automatically locking his enemy in place. A growl sounded behind him. He didn’t release his hold until he and Bride were inside the bedroom. Then he waited, doing nothing, expecting McKell to storm inside, fangs bared. It never happened. Another shocker.

  Bride spun in a circle, her gaze eating up their new surroundings, and he could only pray she liked his home better. It came with him, after all.

  He took stock, as well. There was a bed of pillows and furs, two lace ribbons at the head and foot, perfect for a little game of bondage. An intricately carved vanity, a mirror, and all the things a woman could desire to pamper herself. A desk made of stone, weapons lining the wall—did the vampire not fear Devyn would take them?—and a closet filled with robes of every color.

  The entire enclosure reeked of the warrior.

  Devyn popped his jaw in irritation. “He wanted you in here without me so that you’ll smell of him when we visit the palace.”

  “I don’t understand why we need to visit the king. I’m not going to let him decide for me.”

  “Have you made a decision, then?”

  “About what?” she asked, pretending to be clueless.

  About me. About us. He didn’t say that, however. There was another way to learn the answer he craved without sounding like a whiny, needy puss. “Visiting the king is the only way to keep McKell from coming after you.” Devyn drew her into his arms. “Are you happy you came here?”

  “Yes. I needed to know what it was like.”

  “And?” He kissed the top of her head, desperate to have his lips on her. Anywhere on her.

  “It’s not like I imagined it. The way that girl was treated…the king wanting me dead…destroying my mother…” She shuddered.

  “So…you won’t stay here?”

  “No. Probably not.”

  Thank God. “We need to figure a few things out, then. Like what to do if the king says you belong to the warrior. I honestly thought he’d side with me because we’re already bonded, already
married.” And yeah, he’d even thought there was a possibility the king would try and force Devyn to stay here; to keep Bride safe, he’d deemed the chance worth it. Not once had he ever thought the king would try and separate them. Until now. McKell’s confidence…

  “If he does, I’ll just wish him into a pile of ash,” she said.

  “And if that doesn’t work?”

  “I’ll keep wishing until something does.” She returned his embrace and rested her head in the hollow of his neck. Her breath was warm against his skin. “Devyn,” she said, and there was a hesitance to her tone he’d never heard before. “My mother is dead, and there’s no way to return my memories of her. I don’t even know her, but right now I miss her terribly.”

  “I’m sorry, love. So sorry.” He ran his hands up and down her spine, offering what comfort he could. “My own mother was more concerned with her lovers than her child, so while I’d willingly give you my memories, I don’t think you’d want them.”

  “Oh, Devyn. I’m sorry.” Her grip tightened around him. “You should have been fawned over. I bet you were adorable.”

  “Were?” he asked with mock offense.

  She uttered a warm, rich chuckle. “Braggart. Macy says I’m becoming just like you.”

  “And you’re the better for it.”

  That earned him another chuckle.

  He kissed her temple. “Your mother wanted you alive and happy. More than anything else, even her own life.” He cupped her chin and drew back, studying her. “You can do that for her. You can give her that.”

  “Yes.”

  Tears sprang in her eyes, turning them to liquid emeralds, and her bottom lip started trembling. Those tears…He was struck with the urge to fight the Grim Reaper himself, anything to give her back her mother. He couldn’t exist, knowing Bride was hurting. It destroyed him, more than the darkness ever had.

  What was worse, he couldn’t tell her how much he thought he maybe might kinda sorta love her. Not yet. Not here. She might not believe him, thinking he said the words, those three earth-shattering words, simply to convince her to leave with him, which could in turn make the contrary female angry enough to stay.